The Boyfriend and I are in an African village, where black magic is common practice. One man from the village is transformed, irreversibly and for no apparent reason, into a penny. He is not ok with spending the rest of his life in penny form and knows that he probably won’t die unless he destroys himself, so he starts rolling around the house, knocking himself on walls and door frames. He rolls back and forth, but the ground is flat, and he can’t gather much momentum. Apparently rolling around is hard work when you’re a penny, and he gets tired, so he flops down to take a break. At this rate, it’ll probably take him centuries to die, and I feel terrible for him.